


Sodden

by MostFacinorous



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cum Play, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Snowballing, post-orgy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 18:05:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13440282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MostFacinorous/pseuds/MostFacinorous
Summary: The Grandmaster has Loki exactly where he wants him, in every way that he wants him.





	Sodden

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/gifts).



It had been a long… while?

In all honesty, Loki had little concept of time, anymore. Had it been hours? A day? Days?

Time moved differently here, and he may or may not have blacked out a few times in all of the _fun_.

All he knew was that he was sore, fucked out, exhausted, and this-- his mouth around The Grandmaster’s shaft, his jaw feeling tight from how much it had been used during the party-- this would be the end of it. The thought was tinged with relief, the excitement of the debauchery having ebbed some time prior, long before the rest of the guests had departed, drifting off after the ship docked in ones and twos and small groups.

 

“Ut-terly delightful. And the best for last, isn’t that right?”

Loki couldn’t tell if the stress in the word had been a hitch caused by his own work, or just a tick in The Grandmaster’s speech, but he did know better than to talk with his mouthful. Not a mistake he needed to learn from twice.

Apparently The Grandmaster was pleased at his remembering the lesson. He stroked affectionately down the side of Loki’s face.

 

“I wonder how much of that incredible sharp mind is left in there right now, I really do,” he mused, showing no sign that he even felt the way Loki was dragging his tongue against the underside of him as he pulled back. Not off, of course; he knew better than that, too. He didn’t get to pull off of him until he was told to-- which sometimes meant a faceful of com, and sometimes meant he stayed there long after he finished, until Loki ended up chasing En Dwi Gast’s slowly softening cock in an effort to keep it in his mouth, much to its owner’s amusement and delight.

He wondered, almost idly, what it would be this time. Not that it would make much of a difference. He’d lost track, too, of how many loads had been spilled on him and in him, how many he’d swallowed and how many he’d spent of his own.

 

“Your eyes are all unfocused, your face’s uh… flushed. Mouth’s all swollen up, though you can’t tell at the moment--it’s a good look on you, really it is. But what’s left at this point, you know what I mean?”

 

Loki squeezed his eyes shut, as if that would shut out the rambling as well, and let him just get on with it.

Had The Grandmaster even _had_ a single other person at this party? His cock didn’t taste like it, but then again, who knew. He could have showered since… had a nap. Even if Loki had tried, he wouldn’t have been able to keep track of him with all the contorting he’d been doing. He wondered if he ought to feel special, like The Grandmaster had saved all of this for him.

But if he hadn’t been with anyone else, then why was this taking so long?

 

He got the distinct impression he was being toyed with, and while that was likely true, and often, at the hands of this man, proved to be exhilarating, right now he was too tired to be able to strain the pleasure out of the implications surrounding it.

 

“Hey, hey, look at me when I’m talking to you.”

His voice didn’t change all that much when he was annoyed, so Loki would have pried his eyes open anyway, just to look and see if he could tell. But En was smiling, so he supposed he wasn’t in too much trouble.

 

Though he might have been smiling at the way Loki’s lashes tried to stick together from the cum one particularly rude partier had left there.

 

“Oh, that’s gooood.” He said, the word halfway between a purr and a sigh.

He held up a single finger.

“Now, I’m going to finish soon, but I don’t want you to swallow until I say so. Understood? Yes? Good. Okay.”

And with that he settled back into the chair he sat in, legs dropping open a little wider, and his hand came down to cup the back of Loki’s head, though he didn’t push him any further down.

Which would, apparently, have defeated his purpose.

 

He let out a series of noises that would have passed as laughter, had they been sped up, and came, spilling repeatedly while Loki watched, almost feverish at this point from exhaustion.

The Grandmaster stroked along his jaw, then down over his throat, waiting while he caught his breath before he huffed.

 

“You can let me go now, but don’t swallow, remember? There’s a good boy.” He stood, his robes falling over him to leave him as decent as he ever was-- as decent as he was capable of being. He turned and pulled Loki to his feet before steepling his fingers and looked him over critically.

 

“Well, we’ve uh, made quite the mess of you, haven’t we?”

 

Loki shivered, not certain if it was cold or exhaustion or just the weight of The Grandmaster’s eyes on him. He couldn’t answer verbally, but he shrugged, as if to say _I’ve had worse_.

He didn’t know if that had been properly communicated, though, judging by The Grandmaster’s sympathetic pout

“Of course, poor thing, here-- let me help you make it better. Ah- now don’t swallow, you remember that, right?”

That was getting redundant, but Loki couldn’t say that much either, nor ask what the man intended. All he wanted was to shower, and then soak in a hot bath, then sleep for a day, and finally eat something that tasted nothing like bitter salt or alcohol.

 

Instead, The Grandmaster guided him backwards, hands on Loki’s shoulders, until he backed into the bar and then, with a strength that Loki had known about but didn’t like to think on too hard, lifted him and lay him on his back.

 

“There we go, look at you! Still got that good mouthful?” He asked, and Loki considered nodding, but he knew, honestly, what it was he was after.

He gathered the cum to the front of his mouth as best as he could, slopped it all on his tongue, and opened his lips while looking up at The Grandmaster, leering down from above him.

 

He hummed appreciatively, and then, almost before Loki knew what was happening, leaned in to give him a deep, dirty, seeking kiss that wiped his mouth clean of jizz-- for a moment, before he forced all of it back in.

Then he broke away and Loki arched an eyebrow, silently communicating the question, much more successfully this time, he supposed, or else The Grandmaster enjoyed the sound of his own voice. Perhaps a little of both, because he chuckled and said,

 

“No-- don’t swallow yet. I’ll tell you when.”

 

And so Loki dropped his head back, leaving it in the tacky damp puddle of his hair, to wait for whatever En Dwi Gast would think of next.

 

Which apparently involved stripping-- something Loki hadn’t seen him do fully yet.

 

The robe fell away and his undershirt came up and over his head, but he let his pants on. Still, Loki had known he was solidly built, lithe for all of his barrel chestedness. He didn’t realize he was so fit, though. There were planes and hard lines where his muscles moved under his skin, and Loki had to work hard to keep from swallowing reflexively.

 

His appreciation must have been obvious, because The Grandmaster stuck his tongue between his teeth and smiled, an accompanying chuckle rolling around in his throat.

 

“Don’t take it personally; you’re just a little _filthy_ right now. Well.” He paused and cocked his head. “Filthier than usual.” His smile grew wider. “How’s that taste? Still good?”

 

In honesty, Loki was _thirsty_ , the odd taste on his palette that said that his next drink of water would be sweet-- a reward for giving his body what it was craving. But again, he couldn’t communicate that particularly well. What he could do, instead, though, was smile, being careful to keep his lips tightly together.

 

The Grandmaster patted him on the cheek.

“That’s my boy.” He told him, clearly pleased, then raised his now cum-sticky hand to his mouth and--

Loki twitched as he licked it off, slowly, deliberately, maintaining eye contact all the while.

He leaned in, then, and kissed Loki again, pressing his tongue with that little bit more cum into Loki’s mouth. He didn’t pull away far, though, bending to speak directly into Loki’s ear, his breath hot and passing over wet spots that Loki hadn’t known were there, on the side of his face.

“I’m going to suck all this cum off and feed it to you, one mouthful at a time. And you’re gonna hold it all for me, aren’t you sweetheart?”

 

Loki felt his mouth go slack and his eyes go wide, but The Grandmaster just reached out and tapped the bottom of his chin, reminding him to close his mouth before he drooled.

“Just hold still, relax… I’m gonna clean you up and fill that beautiful hungry mouth of yours.”

 

How was he supposed to do either of those things?

 

Especially as The Grandmaster leaned over him again, this time to suckle at his earlobe, before licking a stripe down the side of his face, across his chin, and up to his mouth again. Loki opened his lips obediently as En Dwi Gast raised his face up, dropping the cum he’d collected in with what was already in there.

 

“Gotta work fast-- parts of you are already dying up.” he commented, nose wrinkling, and Loki couldn’t tell whether the expression was from disgust or disappointment. But he almost hoped that the majority of it dried before The Grandmaster got to it. He’d lost count of how many loads had ended up on him-- and he had no idea how he was meant to fit all of them in his mouth at once, even with the loss of some of it to dripping and drying.

 

“Ooh-- I see you had some fun with one of the kree who was here-- though with this much on you, more like at _least_ one. You do look good in blue-- remind me to commission you some new clothes one of these days. When I get around to letting you wear them again.” He scooped some of the tinted semen from Loki’s neck on one long finger and brought it to Loki’s mouth.

 

Loki couldn’t suppress his full body shiver at that, and The Grandmaster smirked down at him, obviously loving his reactions, despite them going against his order to hold still. At least his amusement made it unlikely that Loki would be punished for disobeying.

He hoped.

Just to be safe, he opened his mouth quickly and drew the finger in, sucking at it the same way he had the man’s cock not long before.

 

The Grandmaster chuckled and pulled his finger free, and Loki felt himself flushing at the obscene noise that came with the motion, while he tried to keep from losing any of what was in his mouth. The Grandmaster clucked his tongue as if in disapproval, but the smirk on his face gave him away.

 

“You _are_ hungry for it, aren’t you? Well, don’t worry. Like I said, I’ll uh, _take care of you_.”

 

His tongue, this time running down the middle of Loki’s chest and chased by the feeling of his whole mouth applied to his skin and sucking up the mess-- and then some-- made Loki’s skin crawl, and he found himself increasingly aware of every drop, every dried fleck of bodily fluid all over himself. He was growing gradually more-- aroused wasn’t quite the right word, and he didn’t think he could muster one more aroused state right now if he _tried_ , but… he was more alert, more aware.

 

And with that came a creeping unease, a sort of humiliation. He was thinking too much, as was his wont, and suddenly, when The Grandmaster again locked his lips to Loki’s to deposit his latest mouthful of cum, Loki found it hard to breathe.

He choked, cum and spit bubbling up from his mouth and into En Dwi Gast’s, whose eyes went wide for a moment, but he took it all. Just until Loki had managed to suck in some air, and then he took hold of Loki’s jaw in one hand, the grip tight and punishing as he held it open and spat it all back into Loki’s mouth.

 

“Careful, now-- you wouldn’t want me to think you were ungrateful for all this care I’m giving you, would you?”

 

Loki shook his head, the liquidy load sloshing against the insides of his cheeks.

 

“No, of course-- didn’t think so.” The Grandmaster said, running his thumb along Loki’s chin to catch what had managed to drip out. “It’s pretty uh, pretty hot though, when you think about it, huh? How many people are in your mouth right now, do you think? And me-- it’s mostly me, percentage wise, which I’m a fan of.”

 

The Grandmaster frowned, looking over Loki’s body, and seemingly realizing that that could-- and would-- change, if he kept on with what he’d been doing.

His brow wrinkled for the space of a second, and then he clapped his hands together.

 

“What do you think, sweetness, you want to swallow it all down now? Is that enough for you? Open up first, show me-- let me see.”

He crowded in close, taking hold of Loki’s chin again and this time looking into his mouth the way you would check over a horse’s teeth before purchasing the animal.

Loki barely restrained himself from shuddering again, but it was a near thing.

 

“Alright. You can swallow.” The Grandmaster said, somewhat regretfully, before adding-- “Slowly!”

 

Loki managed to obey, turning one mouthful into five gulps, all the while fighting the urge to retch.

 

When he was done, he opened his mouth again, unprompted, to prove that he had in fact swallowed it all.

“Gosh, you’re good.” The Grandmaster said, pressing his palms together appreciatively. “Alright, now hop up-- oh my.”

 

Loki took his feet, but at the sound of The Grandmaster’s clearly put on dismay, he turned to see the cause, tension making his movements stiff.

 

“Now look what you’ve done-- the bar’s a mess. Look, there’s a little lake where your head was-- your hair is gonna look great tomorrow. But, right now-- well, I think my ship deserves some respect, don’t you?”

 

Loki looked around significantly.

“Frankly, I think it deserves to be filled with boiling water, at this point.” Loki said, wishing his voice didn’t sound quite so abused.

 

“Loki.” The Grandmaster said, tone dark with warning. “My bar. Clean it up, make us a drink-- we’ll toast to a good party, and call it a night. How does that sound?”

 

It sounded-- doable.

“It sounds… delightful, actually.” Particularly as Loki making the drink meant he could be certain that its contents were nothing more than they seemed to be.

Or at least, reasonably certain.

“Is there a supplies drawer, or--?” Loki asked, knowing full well he was being optimistic.

 

“No, ‘course not, gorgeous. I want to see you put that tongue of yours to good use.”

 

And of course, that meant more of that taste. But at least he had something to look forward to for afterwards. And alcohol would burn away all of the bitterness that lingered.

And at least there was no one else left here to see.

 

He was not nearly so immune to the sting of humiliation as he’d like, but with just the two of them, it was… somewhat more manageable than it would be otherwise.

 

And so, cheeks burning, he did as he was bid, putting his hands flat on the bar top and bending down to lick up the cum that had been left behind by his hair-- hair that was now falling in his face.

And The Grandmaster wanted to _see_ him.

He straightened, reached up, and slicked the hair back from his forehead, glad for the moment that the stuff was saturating it so fully, because at least that meant it would stay, for a time.

 

That did, however, present the problem of his hands being covered in it, which would only make more of a mess if he put them back on the surface of the bar, but he knew the answer to that, too-- and proceeded to make a show of it, meeting The Grandmaster’s eyes while he slide the flat of his tongue up from his palm to his fingers.

He hurried, making quick work of it, but he could tell The Grandmaster wasn’t unaffected. He smirked and his eyes darkened appreciatively, but Loki also know that wouldn’t last.

He’d already said what he wanted, and that wasn’t Loki licking himself clean. (Thank goodness)

 

And so he leaned down and returned to it, focusing on the task at hand. If he kept his eyes closed or focused on the wood grain, visible still beneath the bright teal of the finish, he could let his mind wander. He was thus distracted enough not to see The Grandmaster moving, and was surprised when he felt The Grandmaster’s hands wrap around his hips.

 

“You know exactly how to make me want you, don’t you? So pretty, so obedient, always going that extra mile-- so good for me.”

Loki felt himself nearly preening under the words, but any warm feeling he had froze when he felt The Grandmaster’s cock brushing against his ass.

 

A whine was ripped from his throat, and he swallowed, trying to find words.

 

“Please, En, I’m so _sore._ ” He sounded like he was wheedling to his own ears, and The Grandmaster made a low annoyed noise in the back of his throat.

 

“Party’s not over ‘til I say it is.” He told Loki sternly. “And what are you supposed to call me at a party?”

 

Loki closed his eyes.

“Grandmaster.” He said quietly.

 

“And what do you say to me at a party? And, y’know, everywhere else, for that matter?”

He asked leadingly.

 

Loki lowered his head.

“Yes, Grandmaster.” He said, resigned and praying it would be quick.

 

“That’s more like it. Like I said, so good. Even if you do sometimes need to be reminded of your place.”

And with that, he slid into Loki, his chest pressed to Loki’s back as he leaned over him.

“Now, what are you supposed to be doing?” He asked, obviously amused by the entire situation.

 

“ _Cleaning_.” Loki said, the word a snarl when The Grandmaster withdrew, a sharp stinging sensation reminding Loki that he had not escaped the evening-- day-- whatever it was, entirely unscathed. He hissed between his teeth at the next inward stroke, but bent his head to resume lapping at the table top.

 

“Now, I can’t see you, so I can’t tell if you’re doing what I told you to. You’ll have to be a little louder, so I know.”

Loki clenched his teeth, cheeks ablaze, and pooled as much spit in his mouth as he could summon, smacking his lips loudly to satisfy The Grandmaster.

After all, when he was in a mood like this-- and when Loki’s ass was as raw as it was-- it didn’t do to keep him waiting.

He let the spit drool silently onto the bar top-- or, nearly silently; he couldn’t help grunting as The Grandmaster slid in again, and Loki slid forward, his tender ass full and his likewise tender cock brushing against the lip of the bar.

 

“Yeahhh.” He heard from behind him, and thought fast; The Grandmaster wanted to hear him. Normally he would have used his words. He used to be so good at that. But his intelligence had fled hours ago, at least, and he knew that anything coherent would betray him-- as it was he was fighting not to make any sounds of distress.

The Grandmaster hated that.

He wanted to hear him, but he wanted him to be happy about what was happening. Or at least, to pretend convincingly to be.

 

He lapped wetly at the surface of the table, slurping and moaning and doing his damnedest to make it sound like he was having a wonderful time, but in reality-- he was tired, and sore, he was bent over, licking up what was, at this point, more his spit than cum, which somehow didn’t make it better, while the-- the whatever he was, elder being, ancient thing that was currently in control of his life or death, pounded him from behind-- Norns knew how many cocks and other things that made to have been inside him of late-- and he was moaning like the cheapest of whores.

 

His very knees felt weak with shame, and he was grateful for the bar he was all but laying across, now. It allowed him to put the majority of his weight on his chest, even as he tried to keep his hips angled back and his cock safely away from it.

His limited success became even less successful, though, when The Grandmaster’s thrusts became harried, and he started bottoming out in Loki faster, the slick sounds of their thighs meeting until it was near continuous, and Loki thought he would scream from the pain--

 

And then it was over.

 

He felt as The Grandmaster pulsed within him, and felt some of his hurt abating as his inner walls were painted in cum one last time.

 

Then The Grandmaster was pulling out and giving him an almost gentle pat on his ass cheek.

 

“Just sub-lime.” He told him, voice dripping with satisfaction as surely as Loki was dripping with cum and sweat and spit.

He just lay there, exhausted to his very bones and unable to stand-- not yet.

  
The Grandmaster circled the bar, pushed Loki’s arm aside, and set two glasses down in the space he’d cleared.

Loki rolled his head to the side and watched as The Grandmaster filled two glasses full of dark green liquid.

 

“To an excellent party-- and my new favorite guest.” The Grandmaster aid, pushing Loki’s glass to his hand until he wrapped his fingers around the stem.

Loki gasped it, and felt and heard the two glasses touching, but his eyes were going unfocused. He didn’t respond, and was only aware distantly of The Grandmaster taking his leave, swanning out of the ship, his vest back in place, no doubt to hide the mess that rubbing against Loki had left on the front of his pants.

 

Loki slid off the bar, leaving his glass there, and landed with a splat and a grimace.

 

He cast around, resigning himself to making a limping stroll through half of the city wearing nothing but a pair of decorative pillows, until his eye landed on The Grandmaster’s shirt.

Thanking the Norns for small blessings, he slid his feet through the neck hole and wrapped the arms around the waist, fashioning himself a skirt that did wonders for his modesty.

 

It would be a long walk, he knew from experience. But at the other end was water, and bed, and sleep, and recovery… at least until The Grandmaster was ready for another party.

 

From the arena he heard a dull, continuous roar, and he found himself hoping that whoever was matched to fight The Grandmaster’s champion next, they took a good long time to die. He needed the rest.


End file.
